


The Book of Soulmates

by steverogersandpeggycarter



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fantasy AU, Peggy and Skinny Steve, Peggy is an elf and Steve is a mortal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28461711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steverogersandpeggycarter/pseuds/steverogersandpeggycarter
Summary: Peggy, a young warrior elf, is devastated when she finds out that the elven Book of Soulmates has no soulmate listed for her.  While helping a regiment of mortal soldiers train to fight the rogue elf Schmidt, she meets a small, skinny mortal named Steve Rogers.
Relationships: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katie-my-lady](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=katie-my-lady).



> Katie-my-lady, here is your Steggy Secret Santa gift! I took what you mentioned about soulmates and ran with it--I hope you like it. :) I'm not super used to writing fantasy, so the worldbuilding is minimal and the magic is sort of hand-wavy--my apologies for that! Merry Christmas and a very happy New Year to you!!!

Darkness was beginning to wrap around the trees of Silverheart Forest when Peggy reached the edge of the woods and headed for home, a heavy pack on her back. She was tired. The warrior elves of the kingdom of Vilnod were hardy, but few had traveled as long and far as she.

The cabin where she lived with four other elves was across a ford, at the foot of a tall bare hill. Light shone from its windows, and strains of off-key music floated through the air. Her fellow elves must be celebrating.

Peggy tapped at the door, and it whisked open so quickly Peggy nearly fell over. “Peggy!” Angie, a tall, curly-haired elf, stood in the doorway. “You got back just in time! Just one day more and you would have missed Partner Day.”

“It’s Partner Day already?” Peggy was taken aback. “I forgot all about it. I’m not ready.”

“Oh, don’t worry, we made you an outfit,” Angie said. “It’s sure to impress your special someone. Now get yourself cleaned up! You want to get your beauty sleep tonight.” With a wink, she divested Peggy of her pack and shoved her into the washroom before she had a chance to protest or to greet her other cabinmates, Rose and Daisy.

Peggy poured cool water from an ewer into a large bowl. Her face, streaked with mud, was reflected at her from the water.

What would her soulmate think when he saw her face tomorrow?

For the young elves, Partner Day was a day that would shape the rest of their lives. Each year, all the elves, both young and old, would gather at the high court of Vilnod. There Erskine, the sage, would be waiting with a magic book. It was a huge and ornate book, with hundreds of pages already filled, and it was called the Book of Soulmates.

The virtue of the book was such that when a young elf inscribed his or her name in the book, another name would appear beside it: the name of his or her soulmate, the elf who was perfect for them. Each year, Erskine would choose a number of elves to write their names on Partner Day. They could refuse if they wished, but few elves had ever been known to refuse. The benefits of finding one’s soulmate were great. 

This year, Peggy and her cabinmates were among the ones chosen by Erskine. “You’re all fine warriors and hunters,” he had said. “You’re brave, wise, and mature. I believe that you are all ready to meet your life companions.”

Peggy had believed that too. In her many reconnaissance missions, battles, and hunting trips, she had imagined what it would be like to have her soulmate by her side. He would be strong and brave, and they would fight for justice together by day and rest in each other’s arms by night.   
But tonight, with Partner Day upon her, Peggy wasn’t feeling so sure of herself. What would her soulmate be like? What would she say to him? Would it be awkward? 

She hoped it wouldn’t be someone she knew. One of the elves who lived close by, a rather pompous fellow named Fred, had got it into his head that it would be a wonderful thing if he and Peggy turned out to be soulmates. He and Peggy often did weapons training in the same group, and he would always seize chances to spar with Peggy or at least talk to her. Peggy didn’t exactly dislike Fred—he was all right, she supposed—but she didn’t see him as a possible soulmate. The magic book wouldn’t do that to her, would it?

Peggy sighed and splashed water on her face vigorously. “Come on, Peggy,” she told herself. “The book wouldn’t match you up with somebody you couldn’t stand. There’s nothing to worry about.”

* * * * *

The next morning Peggy’s cabinmates made a big fuss about doing their hair and picking out their best clothes. 

“Peggy, you should let me do your hair,” Angie said. “I know a special braid that no one else will know how to do.”

Peggy shook her head. “Thanks, Angie, but I’m fine. I want my soulmate to see me the way I really am.”

“You look lovely, Peggy,” her cabinmate Daisy told her. “With those curls, you don’t need any kind of braid. But you’re a little pale. Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

“I’m fine,” Peggy said. “I guess I’m just a little apprehensive.”

All the way to the high court of Vilnod, Peggy hardly noticed her surroundings. Images danced before her as she envisioned the meeting with her soulmate. Would he be at the hall with her? Maybe he was off on a trip and she wouldn’t meet him until months or years later.

She knew what she hoped would happen. A name would appear, and Erskine would point her soulmate out to her in the crowd. She would go up to the elf and say his name, and when he looked up, she would see at once that he was the one she had been waiting for. 

As she entered the hall where Erskine was waiting with his magic book, a voice stopped her. “Greetings, Peggy.” It was Fred.

“Hello, Fred,” Peggy said. She was still walking. Fred laid a hand on her arm, and she stopped. “What is it?”

“The moment of truth,” Fred said, his brown eyes soulful. “Are you really my soulmate?”

Peggy stifled a sigh. “I guess we’ll find out,” she said more brightly than she felt, and turned away to ask Angie about the order of the lineup to sign the book. It turned out that the lineup was determined by age, oldest to youngest.

The line of young warrior elves stood, still and serious, before the dais at the high court of Vilnod. The elven king and queen sat on the dais, but all eyes were on Erskine the sage and his magic book. Peggy ended up near the back of the line. Daisy was directly behind her. Angie, Rose, and Fred were all somewhere up ahead.

The line moved slowly. There were no loud announcements, except a loud excited yell from one elf who discovered that his soulmate was somebody he already knew. 

A few moments later, Peggy was startled by someone calling her name. 

“Peggy!” Someone was approaching her. Her heart beat fast, then sank. It was Fred. No, no, no. Please not Fred.

Fred’s face was apologetic. That was unusual.

“Peggy,” he said, reaching for her hand. 

“Fred.” Peggy put her hand behind her back.

“It wasn’t you.”

Peggy shook her head as though that would make her hear better. “What?”

“I know it’s a disappointment,” Fred said, “but I’m sure there will be somebody wonderful for you too.”

Peggy blinked. A disappointment? Fred must be completely crazy. If he thought she had been going around hoping they were soulmates, he was completely wrong. 

“My soulmate’s name is Mirabelle,” Fred went on, showing a slip of paper. “Mirabelle, daughter of Watkin. You don’t know any Mirabelles, do you?”

Peggy shook her head. “No. Good luck finding her,” she said.

Fred was gone. Thank goodness. That was one less thing Peggy had to worry about.

All of a sudden, she found herself at the front of the line. Erskine held out a quill pen, and Peggy dipped it in the inkwell with fingers that were suddenly unsteady. 

The book lay on a wooden stand, open to a page half-filled with two columns of names. Erskine pointed to the first empty spot.

Slowly, Peggy wrote her name and watched with bated breath for letters to appear on the opposite side of the page.

Nothing.

This was awfully slow magic, Peggy thought. She waited.

“Peggy.” Erskine’s voice was quiet, and she looked up. His face was hard to read behind his beard and spectacles. 

“I’m sorry,” Erskine said. “I have seen this happen before, but not often.”

“What?” Peggy looked down at the page. Still blank.

“For reasons that I do not know,” Erskine said gently, “some elves do not have a soulmate.”

“What?” The reality of Erskine’s statement came crashing down on Peggy all at once. No soulmate? She would be alone forever?

“This does not mean that you are any less worthy,” Erskine said. “Perhaps for what you are meant to do with your life, a soulmate would only slow you down. I have heard you are one of the most promising young warriors in the kingdom.”

Peggy’s face must have looked as stricken as she felt, because Erskine laid a hand on her shoulder. “I know,” he said. “I am sorry. I felt the same way myself.”

So Erskine didn’t have a soulmate either. Peggy hadn’t thought about that, but she realized it was true—the sage had always been single.

“Do you want me to call an attendant?” Erskine asked.

Peggy shook her head. “I’m all right. Thank you.”

Head held high, she turned from the dais and walked away. She could feel the other elves looking at her, but their faces all blurred together as her eyes filled with tears she was trying desperately to hold back.


	2. Chapter 2

Back at her cabin, Peggy flung herself into her hammock, curled into a little ball, and cried. Why her? Out of all the elves, why was she the one who didn’t have a soulmate? The future she had imagined for herself was gone, leaving nothing but emptiness in its place. 

Peggy’s cabinmate Daisy had seen the whole thing, since she was right behind Peggy in the line. She must have told Peggy’s other cabinmates, because when they came back to the cabin late that night they were all kind and sympathetic. They tried not to talk too much about their own soulmates in front of Peggy, although they were all so excited that their resolve didn’t last long. 

Peggy’s cabinmates were all getting ready to marry their soulmates and move out of the cabin. Peggy would be left by herself. She was used to that, because she had often been alone on hunting trips and spy missions, but it felt different this time. When she was alone before, she had often thought about her soulmate. Now she had nothing to think about and look forward to but a lifetime of solitary fighting, traveling, and hunting.

Three days after her cabinmates moved out, Peggy went to the high court to find Erskine. She found him in his library, a cheery, airy room filled with well-dusted scrolls and books. He was sitting in a hammock, reading a heavy tome.

“Honorable Erskine,” Peggy said, “do you know anything I can do? If I stay by myself in that cabin any longer I’m going to go mad!”

Erskine looked up from his book. “Peggy,” he said, rising to his feet and putting the book aside. “I thought you might come back. Has your commander not given you anything to do?”

Peggy shook her head. “All the young elves in my division were given time off because so many of them just met their soulmates. I don’t know when I’ll get another mission. Please, is there anything I can do?”

Erskine stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I might have something,” he said. “Wait here. I’ll be right back. I am going to confer with the head of intelligence.”

When Erskine came back, he had a job for Peggy. “This is a rather unusual task,” he said. “You’ve never worked with mortals, have you?”

“No, but I protected a few of them in a cave during that ogre invasion two years ago.”

“Good. You’ll be protecting them again. There’s a little mortal army outpost that is badly in need of someone to train its soldiers. I want you to train them in the ways of the elves.” Erskine handed her a map. “It’s a long trip, but there’s no one else that I’d rather send. I think you are destined for something important, something that will become clear in time.”

Peggy accepted the map gratefully and went to pack her things. After some final instructions from Erskine, she set out for the mortals’ army camp on the other side of Silverheart Forest.

Erskine had explained the whole situation. This group of mortals was in league with the elves in their fight against a rogue elf named Schmidt. Schmidt was determined to take over the world, to rule the elves and wipe out the mortals. He had built a huge underground base and was amassing an army far greater than anything Peggy’s kingdom had.   
Many of the mortals who lived in the kingdom, seeing Schmidt’s threat, had talked to the king of the elves about forming an alliance. So now there were bands of mortal soldiers who needed training. Peggy was going to one of the smaller bands, an outfit known as the Howlies. 

On the third day after setting out, Peggy found the Howlies’ camp in the forest. It wasn’t hard to find. They were all making noise, Peggy could see smoke from several campfires, and the ground all around their camp was horribly trampled for a great distance. If Schmidt had been around, he could have taken them out in no time with only a couple of his elves.

Peggy came closer and was surprised to see the mortals all practicing archery in the camp. They were taking turns shooting at a large target against a tree. Peggy wasn’t sure at first who was in charge.

She decided that a gruff-looking man watching the proceedings intently was probably their leader. As she approached him, he looked up.

“You’re an elf,” he said.

“And you’re a mortal.” Peggy put out her hand for the customary handshake that mortals always seemed to do. “Are you the leader of these men?”

“Yes. Phillips is the name.” 

Peggy wondered if the man knew how to smile. Well, it was wartime, and he had a lot of things on his mind. She probably didn’t look too cheerful herself.

“Are you Peggy?” the man asked. “The one who’s supposed to help with training?”

“That’s the one.”

Phillips seemed to be appraising her. “Why don’t you go help that shrimp over there figure out how to string his bow? If he doesn’t hurry up the war will be over before he’s done.”

He motioned to a small, skinny mortal on one side of the group, vainly struggling to bend his bow enough to string it.

Peggy walked over to him. “Need any help?” she asked.

The young man looked up, a lock of blond hair falling over his face. His eyes grew wide. “Who are you?” he asked.

“My name’s Peggy. I’m an elf. I’m here to help with training.”

“Steve.” The young man was still staring. “Wow, you’re beautiful—I didn’t know that elves—sorry, I’ve never met a girl elf before,” he said, his face growing red.

Peggy laughed. “Don’t worry.” She motioned to his bow, still unstrung. “Has anyone shown you how to string that?”

Steve’s face grew redder. “I know how. It’s a bit tougher to do it.”

He couldn’t bend the bow enough to string it. What in the world was he doing in the army? There was no way he was strong enough to fight. 

“Want a hand?” Peggy stretched out her arm for the bow.

Steve looked at her evenly. “I oughtta do it myself,” he said. “I won’t have somebody around to help me do it out in the field.”

“He being stubborn again?” A voice behind Peggy made her turn around. A grinning brown-haired mortal, a few inches taller than Peggy, was walking up to them. “He wouldn’t take help if somebody wrapped it up in brown paper and gave it to him for a birthday present.”

“Aw, come on, Bucky,” Steve protested. 

The newcomer punched Steve in the shoulder (lightly, Peggy noticed). “I didn’t know they were recruiting ladies for this division,” he said to Peggy. “Wait a minute. Are you—”

“I’m an elf,” Peggy said.

“Ah, that explains the ears,” Bucky said. “And the clothes.” He looked back at Steve, still struggling with the bowstring. “You’d better listen to her, punk. She probably knows more about fighting than any of us ever will. Probably fought in hundreds of wars already.”

He went away, whistling, and Peggy was left with Steve.

“I haven’t fought in hundreds of wars,” Peggy told him. “I’m probably not much older than you.”

“I’m twenty-four.”

She would have assumed he wasn’t any older than sixteen. He was actually older than her—she was only twenty-one.

“In that case you’re older than I am,” Peggy said.

He looked as though he was about to say something, then shook his head. “Never ask a lady her age.”

Peggy smiled. “Well, if you’re sure you don’t need help, I’ll see if someone else does.”

The other men had all been successful in stringing their bows and were taking turns shooting at targets. Peggy went up and down the line, giving advice on the proper way to draw the bow and tips for actually hitting the target. Occasionally she looked back to where Steve was. He hadn’t gotten the bow strung.

Phillips was still standing there watching the group. Peggy approached him. “Phillips,” she said, “that man on the left—Steve—can’t possibly handle a bow of that size. Don’t you have any smaller?”

Phillips shook his head. “Standard equipment,” he said. “All the same size.”

“What is he doing in the army?” Peggy demanded. “Are you trying to get him killed?”

Phillips sighed. “Believe me, if I had my choice, he’d be at home collecting supplies for the war effort! He’s the nephew of a duke who provided me a hundred men, and he begged his uncle to let him join up. If I send him back, I’ll lose all his uncle’s men too.”

“He sounds very determined.”

Phillips snorted. “I think he’s crazy. He can’t shoot a bow or even lift a sword. He’s got a list of health problems that stretch from here all the way across camp. Why can’t he stay at home and help with the war some other way?”

Just then the camp cook began banging loudly on a pan to signal dinner, and everything became pandemonium as Phillips tried to supervise the men putting away their archery gear. Peggy got her own food—mostly fruit and nuts—from her pack and ate by herself, surveying the group of mortals with interest.

It was the first time she’d been among mortals who were preparing for war. The people she had protected during an ogre invasion had been farm people, peaceable, terrified of the ogres. These men seemed far from terrified of Schmidt and his band of elves. They were cheerful and boisterous. However, that seemed likely to change when they actually had to face Schmidt and his elves. Peggy wasn’t looking forward to fighting them herself, and she had spent her entire life so far learning how to fight.

That evening, the men were learning how to move silently in the woods, something that was especially important since they would be fighting elves. Peggy found it hard to believe how loud the men were as they crashed through the underbrush, and how their whispers to each other carried far and wide.

“Even other mortals wouldn’t have any trouble finding you,” she told the group of men as they halted for a rest.

“What’s the use of all this sneakin’ around?” one man, a big muscular guy she’d noticed as a good archer earlier, called to her. “We wanna fight them, not hide from them!”

“Stealthiness is an important component of fighting,” Peggy told him. “If your enemy knows where you are, he has time to plan his defense or to ambush you himself.”

“I still say only sissies sneak around in the woods,” the man retorted. “Let ‘em come out and fight us in the open.” A murmur of agreement came from some of the men around him.

Peggy sighed. “That’s where you’re wrong,” she said. “This isn’t a boxing match. This is deadly combat, and Schmidt and his elves will do anything they can to get the advantage. Including sneaking up to your camp and cutting your throat while you sleep.”

“That’s what the guards are for,” the man laughed.

“Hodge, shut up,” a deep voice demanded, and Peggy recognized Steve. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Hodge whirled towards Steve. “Runt! Who asked you?”

Steve faced him calmly. “I did. Shut up and listen to the lady.”

Hodge started towards him, then stopped. “Oh, what’s the point? Schmidt’s men will beat you up soon enough, kid.”

Steve ignored him.

“Let’s go on,” Peggy said hastily. “Follow me, and be quiet this time. Don’t step on sticks or leaves.”

At the end of the night, the men hadn’t improved much in the way of woodsmanship, but at least they had a better idea of the things that would happen to them if they weren’t quiet. Back at the camp, the men sat around small fires and talked quietly. There was no immediate risk from Schmidt—as of yet, he hadn’t strayed far afield from his main base. Peggy’s sources believed he was waiting to collect more fighters before making a move.

Peggy recognized Steve and his friend Bucky by one of the campfires. It was a cold night, and she was tired of being lonely. She approached the fire.

Steve looked surprised, and Bucky grinned. “Come sit with us, ma’am!”

“Thank you, I will,” Peggy said, and dropped cross-legged to the ground by the fire. “You both look dead tired.”

“And you don’t look tired at all,” Bucky said. “Is that how it is with elves? No aging, no tiredness?”

“No, we get tired,” Peggy said. “Just not as quickly as most.”

A voice called from Phillips’s tent. “Barnes! Get over here!”

“That’s me,” Bucky said, slowly getting up and stretching his back. “Gotta tell Phillips about all the stuff that didn’t happen today.”

“He’s one of the group leaders,” Steve explained. “Always has to report at the end of the day.”

Bucky ambled off towards Phillips’s tent.

Steve looked down, poking the fire with a stick.

“Steve,” Peggy said suddenly, causing Steve to look up in surprise. “I appreciate the way you stood up to that soldier in the woods—Hodge, was that it?”

Steve blushed. “I know you had the situation under control,” he said. “That guy gets under my skin.”

“I don’t blame you.” 

A thought had been working in Peggy’s brain. “Steve, if someone got you a more manageably-sized bow, would you use it?”

Steve’s eyes were despondent. “Sure,” he said. “I know what you must think of me. Can’t even string my own bow. But I couldn’t stand to stay home and see Schmidt tear the world apart. I had to do something about it.” He poked the fire again. “So far, I’ve done a whole lot of nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” Peggy said. “You’re putting your life on the line for your people and your country.”

Steve smiled. He had a nice smile. 

“So are you,” he said. “Are all the elves warriors?”

“My people are.” Peggy told him about her training and her friends. Steve listened intently.

“Wow,” he said. “It must seem silly to you, what we’re trying to do. I mean, you’ve been fighting your whole life! This must be baby stuff to you.”

Peggy shook her head. “Your division will be a great help to us, when they can move a little quieter in the woods!”

Steve laughed. “Might take a year or two.”


	3. Chapter 3

Keeping watch that night, Peggy was surprised how little she had thought about her nonexistent soulmate all day. Maybe that was how it would be—she would think about it less and less, and finally it wouldn’t bother her at all. She hoped so. 

The next morning, Peggy asked Phillips for a brief leave from camp, went out, and got a piece of elm wood the right size to make a bow. While the men were eating their dinner at noon, she began to make the bow. It would be sturdy but not too heavy for Steve to draw, and it would be the right height for him.

The men had gotten more used to having Peggy around, and she could tell that some of them were losing the awe they had had at being trained by an elf.

“Hey, you got a sweetheart back home?” Hodge, the obnoxious soldier, called after an archery lesson when Peggy asked if there were any questions. “Y’know, it might be interesting for an elf to get to know a real man, not one of those long-haired sissies!”

Peggy ignored him.

Later that afternoon, while the men were getting their supper, Peggy heard voices off to one side of the camp.

“You’re gonna apologize to her, Hodge,” a low voice said.

The other man—presumably Hodge—laughed obnoxiously. “Or what? You’ll punch me? I’d like to see you do it!”

“You insulted her and her people,” the first voice said vociferously. “You’re gonna take it back.”

Hodge laughed again. “Make me!”

There was a thump, and a shout from Hodge. “Rogers, you’re dead if you punch me again!”

Another thump, and some scuffling. Peggy thought it was time to intervene. She strode towards the noise and found Hodge pinning someone to the ground.

“Hodge, get up this instant!” Peggy barked. “Let him up!”

She wasn’t surprised that the guy who tried to get up, then flopped down to the ground again, was Steve.

“If it was worth it I’d punch your face in,” Peggy told Hodge. “It’s not worth it. Get out of here.”

Holding himself stiffly to attention, Hodge left. Peggy turned her attention to Steve.

He was breathing hard, and his nose was bleeding profusely. Peggy pulled out her handkerchief. “Are you all right?”

“Just—wind knocked—out of me,” Steve said, holding the handkerchief to his nose in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding. “I’ll be all right.”

“You don’t look all right,” Peggy said. “Your nose will never stop bleeding if you lie on your back like that. Here.” Grasping his shoulder, she gently helped him to a sitting position. “Put your knees up and put your head down.”

Steve let himself be guided into the right position. He was still breathing hard.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Peggy asked.

Steve shook his head, pinching his nose with the handkerchief. “Thadks. I’ll be fide, really. It’s just by asthba.”

Peggy had heard of asthma, a common ailment among mortals. That explained why Steve had such a hard time keeping up when they went through the woods. 

It was some time before Steve’s nosebleed stopped, but finally Peggy surveyed his blood-streaked face and pronounced him good enough to go back to camp.

“Thanks,” Steve said, scrubbing unsuccessfully at his face with the handkerchief. “That’s the quickest I’ve ever gotten rid of a nosebleed.”

“I hope you don’t get them often,” Peggy said.

“Mostly when I get punched,” Steve said, a smile creeping onto his face. “Just part of life.”

Peggy shook her head. “I’d prefer you weren’t getting punched on my account. I heard you talking to Hodge.”

He flushed. “You heard that?”

“I appreciate your concern,” Peggy said. “And your chivalry. The women back home must appreciate that.”

He looked down. “Uh—I guess—I don’t talk to a lot of women.”

Peggy came to a sudden realization. Those women probably thought about Steve the way Phillips thought about him. He was too small, too skinny.

Didn’t they understand that it wasn’t the size of a person’s body that mattered, but the size of their heart? She’d only been acquainted with Steve for two days, but in those two days she had learned that he cared deeply about things. With his courage and sense of justice, he was a bigger man than Hodge would ever be.

Steve’s face wore a wry expression. “Women always like Bucky. Sometimes he gets me to go places with him and his friends. But most of the time I’d rather be home drawing pictures.”

“Are you an artist?” 

“Not much of one. But I like to sketch.” 

“I’d like to see one of your sketches.”

“Maybe, if I can find one that isn’t too bad.” Steve smiled, which made the blood streaks on his face look even worse. He tried to hand her back the handkerchief, but she waved it away.

“Keep it,” Peggy said. “We’d better get you cleaned up before you come back to camp. Do you want to report Hodge to Phillips?”

Steve shook his head. “Don’t bother. I doubt he’ll cause me any more trouble.”

* * * * *

Peggy finished making the bow for Steve by the next evening. The following morning, she found him at archery practice and presented the bow.

Steve’s jaw dropped. “Did you make that?”

“I thought it might be more manageable.”

Steve grinned. “Let’s see.”

It was still difficult for him, but he managed to get the bow strung, and he could draw it. The look of excitement on his face as he tried out the bow was enough repayment for everything Peggy had put into making it.

“Wow. Thanks,” he said. “That must have been a lot of work!”

Peggy smiled. “Don’t mention it,” she said. “You deserve a bow that’s actually useful.”

* * * * *

That afternoon, Phillips sent Peggy on a solo scouting mission. He had heard that spies from Schmidt’s side were infiltrating the country, and he wanted to find them before they knew where the military camp was.

The woods were empty except for the usual wildlife. Peggy moved through them quietly but without fear, scouting in a wide area towards the north. Schmidt’s camp was north of the Kingdom of Vilnod, so everyone expected his men to come from that way. Of course, Peggy told herself, if they were smart they’d travel around and come in from another direction. Still, Phillips had thought this was the best area to check.

Peggy was getting ready to head back when she heard a noise in the forest, coming from the west. She concealed herself behind a bush—with her green and brown clothes, staying completely still, she would be hard to spot.

“Peggy,” a voice said.

Who knew her name out here? Was this magic? Peggy peered around, still staying hidden behind the bush.

“Peggy, it’s Erskine,” a voice said, just as a familiar figure came into view. 

Peggy cautiously raised her head above the bush. “Erskine! What are you doing in this part of the woods?” she said, low.

“Just coming to see how things are going at the camp,” he said. “I’ve been north, checking on Schmidt’s stronghold.”

That was a long way for someone as important as Erskine to travel. “You went all the way up there yourself?” Peggy asked. “Didn’t you have any scouts to send?”

“Yes, but I needed to see it with my own eyes and work my own magic,” Erskine said. “It will be harder now for Schmidt and his troops to come this way. The road is much worse than it was, and the rivers wider and deeper—thanks to a few little tricks I learned, years ago.”

That made sense. The young elves, Peggy’s fellow scouts, had little magic. Erskine, however, was one of the Great Elves from a time long past. Over the centuries, his grasp of magic had strengthened. He could be tremendously helpful in the fight against Schmidt and his elves.

“Walk back with me,” Erskine said. “We can report to Phillips together.”

They made their way through the sun-dappled woods together. 

“How do you like your assignment, Peggy?” Erskine asked suddenly.

“Well, I think things are going well. At least the men are beginning to learn how to be soldiers,” Peggy said. She filled him in on the men’s activities—archery, swordfighting, woodsmanship, and the like. “They were having a hard time at first, especially with the woodsmanship, but some of them have gotten a lot quieter. And their archery is improving. Then there’s this one named Steve.”

Peggy told Erskine about Steve’s determination and courage, despite his small stature and his health problems. Erskine listened patiently with a little smile. 

“I like this Steve,” he said, as Peggy finished telling the story of the fight with Hodge and Steve’s bloody nose. 

“Erskine,” Peggy asked hesitantly, “is there anything you can do for Steve? He has so many health problems—could you heal any of them?”

Erskine shook his head. “My healing skills are relegated to the realm of the elves,” he said. “I am not permitted to interfere with the lives of mortals, except to do ordinary doctoring such as any healer could do.”

“I see.” Poor Steve.

“I want to meet him, all the same,” Erskine said. “Although I’ve never seen him, something tells me he’s destined to do something great.”

* * * * *

Erskine left in the evening, despite Phillip’s warnings about the dangerous woods. “I have plenty of ways to protect myself,” he said, and left, with Phillips grumbling after him.

There was a full moon that night, bathing the camp in enough light to read by. Peggy lay awake in her bedroll, not tired enough to fall asleep. It was a common situation—elves didn’t need much sleep.

A noise on the other side of the camp made her sit up. That wasn’t someone creeping past the guards, was it?

She could see someone sitting against a tree, moonlight glinting off his blond hair. From the height and build, it had to be Steve. What was he doing? After a grueling day in training, he ought to be asleep.

Quietly Peggy got up and made her way over to him. He looked up.

“Peggy!” he said quietly. “I thought everyone but the guards was asleep.”

“I thought the same thing. What are you doing up?”

“I couldn’t get to sleep,” Steve said. “I keep coughing when I lie down.”

“Did you try drinking water?”

Steve nodded. “Doesn’t help. It’s just one of those nights.”

“Want any company?” Peggy asked.

Steve patted the ground next to him. “Sure.”

She sat down, and they watched the moon rise higher in the sky.

“Tell me, Steve,” Peggy said. “What’s life like for you at home? What’s your family like?”

“Well,” Steve hesitated. “My parents died in the ogre invasion.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, that’s all right.” Steve looked steadily ahead. “They were good people. I like talking about them. My father was a baker, and my mother was a seamstress. They taught me everything I know—except how to throw a punch. Bucky taught me that.”

“How long have you and Bucky been friends?”

“Ever since we were little lads. Our mothers were friends. Bucky and I went everywhere together. He pulled me out of a lot of fights.”

“I can imagine.” Peggy smiled. “You seem to get into them a lot.”

“I don’t go looking for fights,” Steve protested. “They just happen. I don’t like bullies.”

“A noble trait. But you’ll get yourself killed if you keep fighting men twice your size!”

Steve brushed that off. “How about you? What’s your family like? Do you live with them?”

“My parents live at the high court of Vilnod. My father is a guard for the king. My brother Michael lives with them. He trains young elves to fight.”

“And you?”

“I live in a cabin in the woods. I had three cabinmates, but they all met their soulmates this year, so they went to get married.”

“Soulmates?”

Peggy explained soulmates to Steve—how the young elves would write their names in Erskine’s magic book, and each would learn the name of his or her soulmate. 

Steve was quiet. Finally he asked, “Did you write your name in the book?”

“Yes, I did.” Before she knew it, Peggy found herself telling Steve the whole story—how she had written her name in the book, only to have the other side of the page remain blank. She told him what Erskine had said, that perhaps she was destined for something more important.

Steve gently laid a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry, Peggy,” he said. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s all right,” Peggy said. “It helped to tell about it, somehow.” She was surprised. Had she just spent a quarter of an hour revealing one of her deepest hurts to a mortal who was practically a stranger?

“You know something?” Steve asked. “Erskine said something like that to me, too. He talked to me for a while. He asked me why I wanted to be in the army so badly, when I was such a little fellow. I said I wanted to protect the people from bullies. He said he thought I was destined for something great, but he didn’t know what.”

Peggy laughed. “I wonder if we’ll know what it is when we get to it.”

Steve’s eyes were wide and serious in the moonlight. “Does Erskine really know the future?”

“I don’t know. He’s been around a long time.”

At that moment, the men who had been keeping watch came to switch with the men on the next shift. Peggy realized with a start that Steve still wasn’t getting sleep.

“You ought to try to sleep again,” she said. “Really, Steve. I’ll bring you some honey from my pack—maybe it’ll help you stop coughing.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Steve protested. “I’ll be all right.”

“Did I hear you say ‘I’ll be all right’?” a voice said quietly nearby. It was Bucky, returning from his watch shift. “When you say that, you’re always in horrible shape.”

“Buck!” Steve protested. 

“I’d wager he’s right,” Peggy said. “I’ll be right back with the honey. Do as I say, now—after all, I’m the one who’s supposed to be training you.”

Steve grumbled a little, but by the time Peggy came back with the honey, she found him peacefully asleep with his head cradled against the tree root. 

She took off her jacket and gently slipped it under his head. “Goodnight, Steve,” she whispered.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day, Phillips ordered the camp to pack up and move. They had been in one place too long. They were going south, farther from Schmidt’s men and closer to the high court of Vilnod. This would take them into Peggy’s own familiar Silverheart Forest.

“And I don’t want to hear a sound while you march!” Phillips told the men. “If you’ve been listening to Peggy with half an ear, you ought to know how to get through the forest quietly. We’re not trying to wake the dead!”

The men went along at a good pace, with Phillips leading them and Peggy scouting ahead to make sure there was no danger. Some time into the trip, a thought occurred to her. How could Steve keep up with this pace?

She told Phillips she was circling around and went back to the end of the group. Sure enough, there was a panting Steve stopped for breath, guarded by a one of Phillips’s subordinates, a cranky fellow named Dooley who had been told to bring up the rear.

“Are you all right?” Peggy asked.

Steve coughed, bent nearly double. “Sure.”

“No, you’re not. Dooley, go tell Phillips to give the men a rest.”

Dooley raced ahead to catch up with the fast-departing men, and Peggy was left alone with Steve.

He leaned against a tree trunk. “Sorry for causing you trouble,” he gasped between coughs. “I always cough when I hurry.”

“This fast marching is hard for your lungs,” Peggy said. “You need a rest.”

“Thanks.” Steve leaned against the tree. He looked morose. “I hate slowing everybody down like this.”

“Well, I’m not about to leave you behind!” Peggy said. “Phillips put you in this army, and he has a responsibility toward you, the same as he does toward everybody else.”

“I’ve got to get better,” Steve said. “If I push myself harder, I’ll build up strength.”

Peggy smiled, but she was sad on the inside. Steve pushing himself harder would probably hurt him, not help him get better. He shouldn’t be here at all. At the same time, those other men didn’t have half his motivation.

“You have strength of a different kind,” Peggy said quietly. “You care about doing what’s right, and you have compassion for other people. That’s more important than physical strength.”

Steve looked at her in surprise. “It doesn’t help win the war, though,” he said.

He had stopped coughing and sank down against the tree. Peggy sat beside him. 

“You don’t need to stay here with me,” Steve said. “You’ve got important things to do.”

“I want to stay here.”

“You do?” Steve’s eyes widened. “Why are you doing all this for me?”

“Because you’re a good man, and I believe in you.” Peggy was aware of an unusual, heady feeling running through her. Steve was still breathing hard, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His eyes were very blue, and his face was not far from hers.

Peggy found herself leaning towards him. They were so close now she could feel his breath on her cheek.

What was she doing? Peggy sat up straight, suddenly panicked. She had been about to kiss him. A mortal. What had she been thinking?

Peggy looked down at the ground, her heart pounding, not wanting to see whatever expression was on Steve’s face.

“Are you all right?” Steve’s voice asked.

“Yes.” Peggy didn’t look up.

“For what it’s worth,” Steve said, “I believe in you too.”

* * * * *

Peggy spent the rest of the afternoon in deep interior mortification, scouting far ahead of the group and avoiding Steve. She did make sure they rested often enough for Steve to keep up, though.

What was wrong with her? Elves didn’t kiss mortals! Elves barely talked to mortals. Their lives were separate. Elves would live on and on for centuries as long as they didn’t die in battle, but mortals had a lifespan of a hundred years or less. Elves and mortals would fight together, work together, and build a kingdom together, but that was all.

She wondered what Steve had thought. It had been an awkward moment. But asking about it would be far more awkward. So Peggy stayed away from him.

They all set up camp at their new base, and although everyone was tired, Peggy led them through a brisk round of hand-to-hand combat. She was matched up with Steve’s friend Bucky, who was the best fighter of the group.

“Wow, Peggy,” Bucky gasped, after she had taken him down to the ground four times in succession. “Are you all right? You seem like you’ve got something on your mind.”

Peggy laughed. “Part of my fighting technique.”

That night, she asked for leave of absence from camp. She wasn’t needed to keep watch, and she assured Phillips that she would be back in plenty of time to train the men in archery tomorrow morning. She just wanted to make a quick stop at her cabin.

It didn’t take long for her to get there. The cabin had been shut up while she was in the forest, and it smelled musty. Peggy opened the shutters to air the place out and flung herself down in her hammock. Home sweet home. Just the place to clear her head and forget ridiculous things like almost kissing mortals.

It didn’t feel like home in the cabin anymore, though. There were no cabinmates sleeping in the other hammocks. The place felt deserted, unused, and lonely. After a long time tossing and turning, Peggy finally fell asleep.

She woke up filled with a resolve to do her job and mind her own business. She had always been a happy, competent elf, who liked the life of a warrior. That was still her life, and she was going to like it. And right now, her job was to go back and train those men to win the war.

* * * * *

Back at the camp, Peggy met with Phillips about the day’s assignments. Phillips was concerned. “We’ve got a problem,” he said. “A baron named Zola, south of here, has allied with Schmidt. He’s coming north with his troops to join him. The men aren’t strong enough to fight him, so we’ll have to stay out of his way. I’ll need scouts to watch his movements.”

“Right away,” Peggy said. “Would you like me to pick out a team?”

“Go ahead. You’ll want five or six men who are good in the woods.”

Peggy selected the team carefully, picking the best men she had. Dugan, a tough woodsman; Morita, a master of surprise attacks; Jones, a man who understood the elven language; Bucky, a good marksman with bow and arrow; and Steve, the one who could move most quietly in the woods. She called the team together to consult about their trip.

The men were all enthusiastic about the mission, although Peggy warned them it was highly dangerous. They packed weapons, food, and other supplies, and began traveling south towards Zola’s land. Phillips had given Peggy a map with an approximate route that Zola was likely to take.

The first day was uneventful. They crept quietly through the forest, looking for signs of anyone having been through there lately. There were no signs. Either no one had been there, or the people had been as stealthy as Peggy and Erskine.

They camped without a fire that night and ate cold food. Peggy didn’t join the men at their supper, but pored over Phillips’s map instead.

She was impressed by the men’s competence. All of them took the mission seriously, and apart from a few quiet jokes from Dugan and Bucky (usually at Steve’s expense, but he took them well), everyone had remained much quieter than Peggy had expected.

“Peggy, you should join us,” Steve said in a hushed voice that was still loud enough for Peggy to hear. “You’ve gotta hear Dugan’s wild story.”

Peggy shook her head. “Thank you,” she called back softly. “I’m figuring out our route for tomorrow.” It was true, but it seemed as though the men were having a much better evening than she was. And although she was determined to push any thoughts about Steve out of her mind, she couldn’t help noticing how cleverly he beat the other men at a game of cards, and how his hair flopped in his face when he got excited.

In the middle of the night, when she was watching the surrounding area from the top of a hill (lying flat beneath a bush, so she couldn’t be seen by anyone down below), Peggy saw something moving in the distance. Was it an animal? No, that was a man.

This would require investigating. Peggy whistled the signal to summon Dugan, the other guard at the moment, who was watching from the other side of the camp. In a few moments she could hear him approaching. He had gotten quieter, but still wasn’t nearly as quiet as an elf.

“What is it?” he asked, low in her ear.

Peggy pointed. The moon was no longer full, but there was enough light to see the moving shape in the middle of a clearing below the hill.

“One of your friends?” Dugan asked.

Peggy shook her head. “Maybe one of Zola’s.”

At that moment, there was a yell down in the camp. “Bucky!” It was Steve’s voice.

Her heart in her throat, Peggy slipped down the hill as fast as she could, Dugan at her heels. In the camp, where neither she nor Dugan had thought to look while they were investigating the stranger, there were only three men. Bucky was gone.

Steve raced across the camp to meet them. “Bucky’s gone!” he panted. “I woke up and saw three men dragging him away. They must have done something to him so he couldn’t yell. We’ve gotta follow them!”

That man moving out in the open down below must have been a distraction to take the guards’ attention away from the camp. Peggy could have kicked herself for falling for such a stupid trick. She hadn’t really been expecting Zola’s men to show up here.

Steve’s jaw was set firmly. “Peggy, we’ve gotta get him back.”

“Yes,” Peggy said. “But we don’t know how many of them there are. This isn’t going to be easy.”

Steve nodded. “If I can’t keep up, leave me behind.”

Of course Steve would think of something like that. “We are not leaving you behind!” Peggy said. “That’s final!”

“I can always carry you piggyback,” Dugan told Steve. 

“And if Dugan gets tired I can take a turn,” Jones offered.

“Thanks.” Steve’s face was grim. “Where are we going, Peggy?”

“This way. This is the way they went.” A swath of trampled plants and disturbed sticks and leaves went through the forest. These men hadn’t bothered to hide their trail. It worried Peggy. Maybe they had stealthier people hidden to ambush them in the forest. 

They went on through the night until Steve’s lungs gave out and Dugan carried him. Everyone else was getting tired. Peggy was probably the least tired, but when the sun came up and they reached the end of the forest, even she would have been ready for a long rest.

They stopped to catch their breath. Steve slid down from Dugan’s back. 

“What now?” he asked. His face was so streaked with dirt that it was almost unrecognizable.

“You’d better eat something,” Peggy said. She had made sure the men grabbed their packs before they followed the trail of Bucky’s captors. “We’re going down into rocklands. It’ll be hard going, and they could be hiding anywhere. And there won’t be much of a trail.”

The men all sank to the ground, rummaging in their packs. 

“Peggy,” Steve said through a mouthful of dried fruit, “do you have a map?”

“Yes.” Peggy dug it out of her pack and unrolled it. “We’re here.”

Steve bent over the map on hands and knees. “If I were Zola,” he said, “I’d have my hideout right about here.” He pointed to a spot not far south of where they were. “Close enough to the river for a quick exit by water, in rocky terrain so it’s hard to approach.”

It was as good as anything Peggy could have come up with. “I think you’re right. Let’s go that way.”

They scrambled among rocks for hours. It was grueling work. However, there were enough encouraging signs for Peggy to believe they were going the right way. A few dusty rocks had recent footprints on them; a patch of mud near a creek had been disturbed recently; and finally, Steve spotted a boot on the ground. It was the same kind the men were all wearing. 

“I’ll wager Bucky kicked off his shoe to help lead us to him,” Steve said.

Peggy held up a hand for quiet. She had heard something.

They cautiously crept up to the top of a rock ledge. There, in a valley surrounded on three sides by rocks and on the fourth side by a river, was a hunting lodge—much smaller than they would have expected.

“That’s it,” Steve breathed. “Now what?”

“Now we sneak up on them,” Morita said with a grin.

They planned out their attack. How Peggy wished she had some of her elf friends to help her! These men were the best of Phillips’s crew, but that wasn’t saying much. 

Steve was surveying the lodge. The door was barred, and the windows were small and high up.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said. “I think I can fit through one of those windows.”

“You’re crazy,” Dugan said. “Maybe we can break the door down.”

“That’s exactly what they’re looking for,” Steve said. “They won’t expect anyone to come in that way. Chances are I can get in the window and out of sight before they know what’s going on.”

Peggy caught her breath. Steve’s hair was blowing in the wind, and despite his dirt-streaked face and his small size, he made Peggy think of a commander leading troops into battle. She had never known anyone else who had so little physical strength and so much bravery.

“You could get killed,” Peggy told him.

He squared his shoulders. “I’ll be careful. It’s better than rushing the front door.”

Nobody could come up with a better plan. They worked their way down the rocky cliff—Dugan lost his grip and rolled the last twenty feet, but somehow he didn’t get hurt—and crept from boulder to boulder to reach the side of the lodge.

Jones hoisted Steve up to the nearest window. Steve peered in.

“No good. That’s the dining room. There’s five of them in there eating. Nobody saw me.”

“Five, eh?” Dugan said quietly. “One for each of us.”

“There may be more,” Morita told him.

They tried the next window towards the front of the house. This one looked more promising—the room was empty. It was a sleeping area, evidenced by the many blankets and clothes strewn all over the floor in disarray.

“Dugan, give me your knife,” Steve said. “I might need it.”

Dugan handed up the knife. Steve strapped it to his belt. With help from Jones and Dugan, he began to crawl through the window backwards. It was a tight fit, but he would just be able to get through.

Peggy held her breath. If he lost his balance and came crashing down, the men in the next room would come running.

Steve prepared to grab the ledge with his hands and lower himself down. He lost his balance and fell down below. Peggy’s heart dropped to her stomach.

There was no crash. He must have landed on some of the blankets and clothes in the room.

Jones stayed at the window. His instructions were to remain there for two minutes, then follow the others. The others went around, staying tight against the house wall so they couldn’t be seen from any of the windows. They reached the door.

In less than a minute, the door was unbarred, and Steve was beckoning at them from the doorway. They crept inside as quietly as they could.

Dugan, Jones, and Morita positioned themselves in the hallway outside the room where the men were eating. Peggy and Steve crept through the lodge, looking for Bucky.

The rooms were empty of people. There was much hunting gear strewn around, and a few deer heads, badly preserved, hung on the wall. 

Peggy was beginning to think they had come to the wrong place when Steve nudged her. He was standing on a piece of carpet. Under the carpet, the floor wasn’t quite even.

They pushed the carpet aside and found a wooden trapdoor that could be lifted by a bronze ring. Peggy lifted it up. There, in a dirty crawl space, was Bucky, bound and gagged. He blinked as the light from the room above fell on his face. Then he recognized Steve and Peggy, and his eyebrows shot up.

They climbed down a short, rickety ladder into the crawl space and untied Bucky. He was as filthy as they were, and pale under the filth, but he seemed to be unharmed.

“What are you two doing here?” he hissed as soon as they had gotten the gag out of his mouth. “You’re gonna get yourselves killed!”

At that moment there was a commotion at the other side of the house. Those men must have discovered Dugan, Morita, and Jones in the hallway. 

“Come on, let’s go!” Bucky raced up the ladder, Steve at his heels. Peggy followed them with more caution, hoping fervently that the three soldiers they had left behind were decent fighters.

They were. By the time Peggy, Steve, and Bucky reached the hallway, the three men had done their work. The five men were no longer a menace. Four of them were securely bound with rope, and the fifth lay in a pool of blood on the floor.

“He came at Jones with a knife,” Dugan explained. “He had to defend himself.”

“All right,” Peggy said. “Everyone, search the house. Make sure there’s no one left.”

They searched the lodge from top to bottom. There was no one else there.

“Pretty terrible guards, if you ask me,” Dugan said. “Nobody was even watching Bucky.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Peggy said.

They headed towards the door, the three triumphant soldiers leading the way, Bucky, Steve, and Peggy following.

Steve looked back over his shoulder at the tied-up soldiers. His eyes grew wide.

“Peggy!” Whirling around, he shoved Peggy to the side as hard as he could. Startled, she staggered sideways. In that half-second when she was off her balance, she saw a knife fly through the air.

With a little cry, Steve slumped to the ground. The man they had left for dead was not quite dead. He had only been biding his time to throw his knife. 

“Steve!” As the cry tore from her lips, Peggy sank to her knees next to him, slipping her hand under his head. This couldn’t be real. He was bleeding out. He had saved her at the expense of his own life.

Some people rushed past her. Bucky dropped to his knees next to them.

“Steve, Steve,” Peggy begged desperately. It was no use. Nobody could save him. She knew that.

Steve’s eyes blinked slowly open. “Peggy,” he said.

Peggy caught his hand. “Steve, you saved my life.” A big sob escaped her.

Steve smiled. “I’m glad.”

Bucky was crying, the ugly crying of someone who knows there is no hope. “Steve, please, don’t go.”

“It’s the end of the line, Buck,” Steve told him, his voice quiet and his breathing labored.

Tears were rolling down Peggy’s face. “Maybe this is what Erskine was talking about when he said you were destined for something great.”

A spasm of pain passed across Steve’s face. “I hope so.” His eyes fluttered shut again. “I know—you’ll do something great.”

At that moment, Peggy knew. He was dying, and she was in love with him.

Gently, slowly, she leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. 

Then everything changed.

A clatter startled her. It was the knife that had stabbed Steve, falling to the floor, although no one had touched it.

Under Peggy’s bewildered gaze, Steve was growing bigger. His arms and chest were filling out. His face was changing.

With a little cry, Peggy loosed her hold on him and sank back onto her heels. Steve kept growing. He was getting taller. The linen shirt he was wearing split at the seams.

What kind of magic was this?

In less than a minute, Steve had grown until he was bigger than Bucky or Dugan.

“Steve?” Peggy quavered.

Steve’s eyes opened, and although the rest of him had changed, his blue eyes were the same. “Peggy?”

“Steve!” Peggy could only stare. The wound in his chest was gone. He was alive and healed. And were those elf ears?

Steve’s face had an awed expression. “Did you just—kiss me?”

“Yes,” Peggy said, and burst into something that was somewhere between laughing and crying.

“Steve!” Bucky burst out. “What happened to you?”

Steve looked down at his chest and looked bewildered. “I thought I got stabbed.” He lifted his hands. “I must be dreaming. These aren’t my hands.”

“Steve, you’re big!” Dugan shouted from somewhere over Steve’s head. 

“What?” Steve sat bolt upright. “What’s going on here?” He looked down at his chest, his longer legs, his muscular arms. “I knew I was dreaming.”

“It must be some kind of magic,” Peggy said.

“Somebody pinch me,” Steve said, looking wildly around the room. “Ow!” 

Dugan grinned. “Ask me that again, anytime.”

Steve scrambled to his feet. “I don’t know what’s going on, but we’ve gotta get out of here. Those fellows may have somebody else helping them.”

In the excitement, they had forgotten their surroundings. Hastily they took stock of their gear and of the prisoners. The man who had thrown the knife had died.

They raced out of the lodge, shutting the door behind them so everything looked the same from the outside. With Steve now so much bigger and faster, it was no problem for the whole group to climb to relative safety up among the rocks. They picked their way among the rocks as fast as they could, going back the way they had come.

Finally Morita complained. “If we don’t stop, I’m going to fall over,” he panted. They sat down on the nearest boulders.

“Steve,” Bucky burst out, “what happened to you?”

Steve shrugged. “Must have been magic.” His eyes met Peggy’s. “Elf-magic.”

“We’d better talk to Erskine,” Peggy said.


	5. Chapter 5

First they had to get back to the camp. It was getting late at night when they finally arrived. Phillips was speechless for fully a minute and a half when he saw Steve. “Son of a gun,” he finally said.

The six scouts cleaned up (Steve had to borrow Dugan’s extra clothes, which were a bit small on him now), and they all had a long meeting with Phillips in his tent. Peggy told the whole story of their trip, with Bucky and Steve telling the parts Peggy hadn’t been there for. The men who captured Bucky had been from Zola’s forces, determined to get information about their opponents. They had planned to wait for Zola to come and interrogate him.

“Zola’s going to come to that lodge and figure out we’ve been there,” Bucky warned Phillips. “He’s likely to start coming up this way.”

“Then we’ll get ready for him,” Phillips said. “We can’t keep retreating and let him terrorize the whole area.”

He turned to Peggy. “You’re sure this is the same Steve? You didn’t lose that little guy and get one of your pals to replace him?”

Steve shook his head. “I’m the same Steve. Have Bucky ask me anything about when we were boys.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” For the first time since Peggy had met him, Phillips’s face was wearing a smile. “I’d like to see you shoot a longbow now, son.”

* * * * *

Finally released from their report, the scouts left the tent, all but Peggy, who remained behind to ask Phillips for permission to take Steve to see Erskine. “I don’t know what happened to him, but it must have been magic. Erskine’s the only one around here who knows about these things.”

“All right, go,” Phillips told her. “If you’ve got a way to make the rest of the troops into supermen, I’d like to hear about it!”

Peggy went out of the tent and found Steve surrounded by an awed crowd of soldiers. The expression on Hodge’s face was priceless—little Steve now stood half a head taller than him.

Peggy squared her shoulders and marched straight into the group. “Steve.”

He caught her gaze and held it. “Peggy.”

“Get ready to leave, soldier,” Peggy said. “Phillips is sending us to talk to Erskine.”  
The other soldiers waved and called after them until they were out of sight. “Those men are going to be hoarse for a week,” Peggy said, as she and Steve rounded the first bend of the trail into a clearing full of sunlight.

Steve stopped. “Peggy,” he said.

She turned to him. “Steve.” 

The look on his face was both determined and sheepish. “You kissed me,” he said. “Did that mean—what I want to ask is—” He stopped, flustered.

Peggy smiled. “Yes,” she said.

“Yes?” Steve’s eyes grew wide.

Catching hold of the strap of Steve’s pack, Peggy pulled him gently down until their lips met in a breathtaking kiss. 

When she pulled away, Steve had a look of sheer awe on his face. “Wow.” Cupping her face gently in his hand, he kissed her back with such gentleness and love that Peggy’s heart nearly burst with happiness.

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with happy tears. “I love you.”

He gathered her into his arms. “Peg, I love you too.”

Held against Steve’s chest, she could feel the strong beat of his heart. “Steve, you almost died saving me,” she said, her voice cracking.

“But you saved me,” Steve murmured into her hair. “You didn’t tell me you could work magic.”

“I didn’t know I could!” Peggy protested. “I don’t even know what happened!”

Steve kissed the top of her head. “I guess we’ll have to ask Erskine.”

* * * * *

Hand in hand, they went to find Erskine at the high court. Peggy only hoped the sage wouldn’t be away on one of his journeys.

The guard at the gate was surprised to see Peggy with Steve. “Who are you?” he asked Steve. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“Steve Rogers. I’m a mortal.”

The guard’s eyebrows lifted. “Is that some kind of a joke?”

“Let us in, Jack,” Peggy said. “We need to see Erskine.”

Jack barred the entrance. “You can come in, but your wisecracking friend had better stay out here until he tells me who he is and which elf regiment he’s from.”

“I’m not from any elf regiment!” Steve protested. 

“He’s telling the truth,” Peggy said.

Jack sighed. “I guess you’ll both have to wait out here.”

“What’s going on, Jack?” a voice said from inside the doorway. There was Erskine.

“Erskine!” Peggy exclaimed. “We were just coming to see you!”

Erskine surveyed Peggy and Steve. “Peggy Carter,” he said. “Steve Rogers. Come with me.” 

Ignoring Jack’s protests, Peggy and Steve followed the sage through halls and passageways to his library.

Erskine ushered them both in and closed the door. “Welcome,” he said. “I was just going to look for both of you.”

Peggy stared. “Why?”

Erskine turned to a thick book lying on a stand. “Because of this.”

He opened the book. From the columns of names, Peggy knew what it was instantly.

“The Book of Soulmates.”

“That’s right.” Erskine turned to the last filled page and pointed. “Look here.”

Peggy and Steve crowded close to see the book. Peggy caught her breath. Her name was no longer a lonely entry by itself. Facing it, in the opposite column, was a name written in bold: Steve Rogers.

Steve turned to Peggy. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

Peggy turned to Erskine. “Is that—”

Erskine nodded at them. “Soulmates.”

“How?” Steve and Peggy asked at the same time.

Erskine smiled. “The elves have great magic, but most do not know how to use it. Peggy, would you mind telling me what happened?”

They sat down in his library and told him the whole story in turns. Erskine listened intently, his fingertips steepled, his brow furrowed in thought.

“This is what happened,” he said, when they had finished. “Peggy, in your desperation and your love you had power that you did not know. Your kiss did not only heal Steve—it made him one of the elven-kind. I have never heard of such a thing happening before. There is greatness within you, Peggy, although you did not know it.”

He turned to Steve. “My son, your stature now matches the size of your heroic spirit. You have been a credit to your people.”

Steve looked embarrassed. “Thank you, sir.”

Erskine smiled again. “I have a long-term mission for both of you. How would you like to continue leading the battle against the forces of Schmidt—together?”

Even before she met Steve’s proud, excited gaze, Peggy knew that there was nothing else in the world that the two of them would rather do. The long wait was over. The life that Peggy had always wanted—fighting for justice side by side with her soulmate—was about to begin.


End file.
